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White Lies: Bad Friday April 10, 2009

Posted by Phil Groom in Poetry.

White lies the snow
but red runs the flow
of the blood
in the hills
of my mind.

What can I know,
where can I go,
to escape
from the mills
in my mind?

Is there a place
where the wind
doesn’t blow?
Is there a land
where the sun
doesn’t show?
Where is hope
to be found
in these days?


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